Middletown hot dog joint serves up good will, love on a bun

MIDDLETOWN — Jaime Palacios has the grill sizzling with sausage and peppers when three giggly teenage girls rush into Holy Dog. They readily admit they don't have any money, but say they'd sure like some franks.

MIDDLETOWN — Jaime Palacios has the grill sizzling with sausage and peppers when three giggly teenage girls rush into Holy Dog. They readily admit they don't have any money, but say they'd sure like some franks.

Within a couple of minutes, each is clutching a dog on a bun, as they run back into the blustery February afternoon.

Palacios — his friends call him Chino — considers generosity a bit of neighborhood relations at a location that county records show has seen three food service businesses come and go since 2008.

He thinks he has what it takes to succeed — a dozen years operating a Mexican restaurant in Brooklyn and an insatiable interest in creating good will with food.

"In my home, cooking is how you express love," Palacios said. "It's like that in Italian families, Arab families. It's an old-fashioned mentality."

He said his position at the Mexican restaurant ended when a partner's divorce forced a change in ownership. Palacios also was tired of commuting from Westtown — he'd leave at 2 p.m. and return at 5 a.m. — a "crazy" trip that wore out his Mini Cooper.

So he stayed home for three years to care for his young son. His wife, Alejandra Ortega, directs the Agri-Business Child Development Center in the city.

He also said it wasn't easy starting over at 49. "So I made my own job," he said of Holy Dog, a name inspired by the churches in the neighborhood.

"It's been many places, I think at one time it was an ice cream stand. To me, it just screamed hot dogs," Palacios said as he readied for lunch in the building at 44 W. Main St. that looks like a Coney Island transplant.

Open six months, the place has a five-stool window counter that overlooks Middletown's police headquarters. Most customers seem to prefer standing at the counter by the grill so they can banter with Palacios.

A customer was seen recently bellying up for six chili dogs to go. He confided he was only eating four. Two were for a friend.

The chili's homemade. So's the sour onion sauce. Palacios said Katz's Delicatessen in Manhattan provided the inspiration for the latter.

An overhead menu promotes specialties like the Polish Hawaiian — kielbasa and pineapple — a French kielbasa served with sauteed apples and onions pumped up with melted brie, and the Chilean Dog with avocado, tomato, mustard and chipotle mayo.

Palacios also does a version of the Chicago Dog, but laments he can't find authentic seeded buns.

Unfamiliar with the menu, first-time customer Miguel Angel of Circleville told Palacios to make whatever he wanted. That brought forth a Southwestern with refried beans, salsa and chili. Angel followed that with a Chilean.

Palacios toys these days with adding meatball sliders and brats to the menu. Both might appeal to Kevin Grosso, who appreciates the snap delivered by the natural casings of Palacio's dogs.

"I'm always looking for the perfect chili dog, and Chino's good company," Grosso said as he ordered up his favorite. "He's got a different slant on things. He gives you samples to check out. He's always coming up with something new, and I'm game for that."